


Van Richten's Return to Castle Ravenloft

by RevenantWings



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Castle Ravenloft, Gen, In this house we don't know what a timeline is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RevenantWings/pseuds/RevenantWings
Summary: Rudolph van Richten returns to Castle Ravenloft in an attempt to finish the work he started many years ago.Warning: The following contains heavy reference to and thus spoilers for the prologue and epilogue of I, Strahd.
Kudos: 3





	Van Richten's Return to Castle Ravenloft

**Author's Note:**

> Liung you can't read this one either, which is unfortunate because it's clearly the best thing I have ever written.

I reminisced to myself idly as I approached Ravenloft, calming my now skittish horse with a gentle hand. It rose out of the mist like a welcome sanctuary, however it was anything but. To an outsider Ravenloft would have been beautiful, but to me it was a foul symbol of the Vampire Lord Strahd von Zarovich’s terrible power.

How long had it been since I’d seen this castle? I knew I could calculate the answer in an instant. Fifteen years ago nearly on the dot I had come through the mists to Barovia, after fifteen years of deduction and waiting in and of itself, believing Strahd to be in a deep hibernation. I’d entered the castle and found my way slowly to his library, avoiding dangers and hoping my intrusion wouldn’t brush against his undead consciousness. There I’d found a valuable item above all valuable items; Strahd’s very own journal. I’d spent a day pouring over his tome of evil deeds, vulgarly bound in human leather, only to reach the end and realize it was nearing on dusk. I’d fled from Ravenloft and Barovia without the book by the skin of my teeth – or so I’d believed – along with the assistance of an obscure potion produced only by the Vistani people.

Shortly after my parting and as I was preparing to return, I learned from my sources that Strahd had awoken from his slumber and once again terrorized the citizens of his country, trapped in the mists as they were. Though none were quite as trapped as him, for death granted most a brief respite before they were forced into birth again – if his journal were to be believed – whereas he was undead forever.

I blamed myself for his awakening, believing that my intrusion into his castle had reached him near the end of his hibernation, and not as I had suspected, during the deepest portion of his undead sleep.

But enough of that, for I natter on in the form common to older folks like myself.

After five years I’d learned from a werewolf I’d freed from its cursed existence that Strahd had once again returned to a hibernated state. In disguise, I bargained with a group of Vistani travellers and confirmed that they suspected the same as well, though none could be paid enough to approach Ravenloft unless summoned by the devil himself.

This time I resolved myself to only waiting ten years for Strahd to enter a deep sleep. Sleeping in vampires is incredibly interesting, because you see they don’t really sleep but instead they… no here I go off topic again.

I tied up my mount outside the drawbridge of the castle, hoping it was too early in the day for roaming bands of wolves to be about. I secured my climbing gear and – believing correctly that I was getting too old for this – summited the front gates and slowly rappelled down the other side.

Would my equipment be safe here? I’d considered entering the gatehouse and lowering the bridge, but I had learned from Strahd’s journal that it was connected to his mind, and I could be certain there were other horrors inside that I didn’t wish to summon either. I’d have to leave it and hope for the best. It was daytime after all.

I entered the castle, using my memory of its passages to return to Strahd’s library without the use of a light. I wanted to get my hands on that tome this time, and hoped he’d added to it during his period of wakefulness.

Only once I’d entered the library did I then finally dare to light my lamp. It looked the same as it had during my last visit, untouched by the passage of time. Strahd was undoubtedly a master of preservation spells. You’d have to be to enjoy anything as an ancient vampire who hibernated regularly, but I digress. (But really, how annoying would it be to have to buy new furnishings every time you overslept?)

I shook off my admiration of his prowess. One should respect their enemy but never should he be admired.

Yes, the room looked untouched though I knew it could not be. Shelves lined the walls with hundreds, if not thousands of books. If I survived my endeavors, I would return here first, to them, once Strahd was dead. The fireplace on the east wall was as cold and dark as ever and much like last time I did not light it.

The painting was where I’d last seen it, the varnish continuing to darken with age. I now knew this woman to be Tatyana. Tatyana, whose beloved Strahd had murdered, whose beloved happened to be Strahd’s own younger brother. Tatyana, whose soul had been trapped in this plane for nearly five hundred years and forced to play out her tragic life over and over again. Tatyana, whom Strahd would never leave alone as long as he continued his undead life.

Though I didn’t need a reason to destroy evil, perhaps for her sake above all else I would destroy Strahd, so that she might finally be free to rest. Where was the brother’s soul I wondered? Perhaps he had died early enough to escape Strahd’s selfish fate, before the walls of mist came down.

How terrible to be separated from your beloved for centuries, even in death. I tried not to think about the fact that if I failed here, I would suffer the same fate and be separated from my darling Ingrid forever.

I tore myself from the painting and looked for the writing desk. Nestled in the centre of blank parchment, inkwells and writing utensils, Strahd’s tome was there just like last time. Once again I hesitated to touch the cover of the folio, responding to the supple human leather-bound appearance with revulsion. I quickly threw the book open, flipping through the mixture of secured and loose pages until I reached the spot where the account had last ended.

Strahd had added several more entries in his difficult cursive style and I spent nearly 10 minutes poring over them. Much of it was written in his curious cipher, which I expected I would need to spend a considerable amount of time decoding. I thought perhaps nothing of immediate importance had been added and was about to chastise myself for wasting precious time, but then I reached the final entry…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ The time now is ripe for one of the games I have prepared. _

_ I had a visitor in the castle not too many years ago, one I’d been expecting for a while. I had been warned that a vampire hunter named Rudolph van Richten had begun plotting against me. He was from outside of Barovia – how curious still that tales of me have spread that far. While I don’t mind recognition of my role here as Lord, and indeed I do expect it, resultantly I felt a need to tighten some lips to ensure there wasn’t too much information leaking into the realms of my enemies. I had summoned Eva and asked her to take care of it for me due to her connections with the various Vistani families. Such stories with too much detail might also discourage good feed from visiting me as well. I could not have that for I have grown tired of feeding on my tasteless subjects, and excitedly wait for ignorant adventurers to stumble into my lands for they are one of my main forms of entertainment. _

_ Consequently, I considered the risk of a lone vampire hunter to be none at all, and indeed he was a welcome treat. _

_ When van Richten arrived, I shadowed him on his journey through Ravenloft, ensuring none else would trouble him while I waited to see what he would do. He seemed genuinely certain that I was asleep, though indeed I had only been pretending since I’d first heard of his attention. What is a decade to me? A mere blink in time, though I regret I had not been able to continue my personal account here, lest he read it and realize the degree of my wakefulness. _

_ The vampire hunter was cautious as a professional should be, but altogether much older than I had expected. Not to discount the value of age, for I at the day of my death in my forties had still been in my prime, but van Richten had looked of similar age yet seemed a few years past his. He did not have the discipline I did in retaining my hard-won muscle, yet was still brave enough to do what so few did and wander my castle. Was he worthy of my respect, or a simple fool? I knew I would soon find out. _

_ I had been informed at some point that a group of Vistani who once served me had stolen his son, Erasmus, and sold him to a Vampire Lord called Baron Metus. Perhaps it was their connection to me that drew him to Barovia. _

_ All the same, I followed him all the way to my library where the man almost gasped with delight. He spent some few minutes lighting the sconces, giving me the time necessary to secret myself into a dark corner. _

_ He was first drawn towards the painting of my beloved Tatyana, and what mortal man wouldn’t be? For she was, and still is, the epitome of beauty. He did not register the painting’s significance and left it well alone after his appraisal. A good thing too, for I would have disliked to have had to execute him on the spot when he’d barely done anything interesting yet. _

_ For a hater of the undead, he seemed to have great respect for my furniture. I watched him as he found my writing desk and carefully lowered his lantern onto some unmarked parchment so as to avoid scraping the table’s finish. _

_ Then, with excitement, he began to paw through my journal, perhaps expecting me to have revealed my weaknesses within. I have taken great care to contain any reference to those items that might be of danger to me in a cipher, one which I doubt he could crack in a day with the majority of the volume written in my normal hand. _

_ I thought perhaps he might bore of my tale, and truth be told I was pleased to finally have someone read it, but he continued reading without pause as though entranced. He did not even seem to notice the passage of the day. _

_ Finally, he reached the end of my written pages and sat up with a start. It seemed he had not expected dusk to arrive so early in my domain: the cover of the mountains brings darkness much sooner. He leapt up quickly and flew down the hallway, forgetting even to destroy the evidence of his presence by smothering the candles. I detached myself from my hiding spot in the darkness and drifted to a front-facing window in my bedchamber next door. I could have stopped him then, I could have sent someone else to stop him. If I’d wanted. _

_ But I wanted to see what he was going to do. _

_ And so, for my own entertainment I allowed him to leave, both Ravenloft and Barovia completely. I then spent a few short years taking care of minor business to make it look like his presence had awoken me. I was curious to see how many more years of his precious life the man would waste waiting to return to use against me the knowledge I had kindly gifted him. _

_ So now I pretend to return to hibernation again, though indeed perhaps I shall slumber a while as there has not yet been any sign of a ripe Tatyana yet waiting for me. I will leave strict instructions to awaken me should there be any chance of his return, though I may yet not choose to sleep very long. _

_ Only time will tell. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shocked, I slammed the tome shut a little harder than I would have liked to. Strahd truly was a cunning bastard. All this time I thought I’d had a leg up on him and he was one step ahead at all times. No, more than just one step, he’d planned for both my initial arrival and for my return. A master manipulator.

It was enough to make the hair stand up on the back of my neck, but it wasn’t the only reason I suddenly felt the prickle of goose pimples on my skin.

I pushed back my chair and instinctively looked to my right, just in time to see what I had perceived as a shadow made darker by my lamp light detach itself from the dim corner of the nearby bedroom and step forward in the shape of a man.

The shape of a man yes, but not a man anymore. This was what I always had to tell myself when facing vampires, so human they appeared. Strahd had died a long time ago, and the pale, handsome figure smiling in front of me contained nothing more of the man in the journal than his shape and his desires.

“Welcome, Rudolph van Richten, to Castle Ravenloft.” Strahd spread his hands out like a welcoming host. The gaze upon me was predatory in nature. This was not an ideal situation but I did not quite feel I was in immediate danger yet.

I clutched my silvered cane closer all the same.

How did he know to expect me? How did he know to be awake on this very day to wait for me in this very place?

I thought back to Strahd’s writing.

“You waited for me to come, no you arranged for me to come.” I pushed the words out through gritted teeth almost thoughtlessly and then I clarified myself. “You led me here, twice over the course of thirty years, as though my arrival in Barovia both times were a game of your choosing?”

“That’s right, Rudolph, everything that happens in Barovia is controlled by my will.” One side of his pale mouth quirked upwards into a smirk as though stating this ‘fact’ had caused him great pleasure. “This plane is a chess board, and you are merely a pawn.”

I was beginning to sweat a bit now, as I realized how thoroughly he’d played me for a fool. At least, that’s what I wanted him to think as I scrambled to gain as much information as possible.

“Which piece are you then, the king?” I inquired, as I slowly reached behind my back and loosed the wooden stake hanging from the back of my belt.

Strahd smiled at me properly then, almost paternally at first, but just as quickly his lips pulled back to reveal his pointed eye teeth.

“I’m the one who controls the pieces.”

His bold statement hung in the cool, dry air for a brief moment as I evaluated its merit.

“I escaped Barovia last time, and you were unable to stop me.” I stated equally boldly. “And I can do it again.” Provided I make it out of here alive, I thought to myself sardonically. The chronic nihilism was settling in again.

His left eyebrow lifted upwards as he crossed his arms.

“Oh really? With a special potion from my Vistani allies I presume? You know, the people who serve me? No, van Richten, I let you escape.” He drawled.

So it  _ was _ a one-way trip then. But no time to dwell on it, for I already knew I would never leave Barovia again until either I or Strahd were dead.

“Why?” I inquired, without further elaboration. He knew what I was asking. Why allow me to escape and come back? I had read his whole diary, I had learned what made him tick, and still yet, he had no concerns? For a game? What was the benefit?

As if sensing a change in my demeanour, Strahd took one long step towards me and I took one long step back in turn, bumping into the chair behind me.

“Why?” Strahd parroted back mockingly. “Why did I let the great vampire hunter Rudolph van Richten escape, only so he could return later with more experience and better information? What is time to  _ me _ ? What is a vampire hunter to  _ me _ ? My spies had done their research on you well before you’d ever set foot in Barovia.”

I began to slowly inch the wooden stake up into the palm of my hand.

“I wanted you to come back, I  _ wanted _ you to see me. I wanted you to think you were powerful, that you had a chance. I wanted to watch all of the hope in your eyes fade before I took your pathetic, miserable life away.” He paused for a moment, perhaps for dramatic effect.

“It gets so boring here sometimes Rudolph, as I wait to be reunited with my beloved.” His voice was quieter now, but with a greater hint of mocking.” The people here taste like ash, their souls having been returned so many times. But you Rudolph? Your soul is a fresh one, tainted with sadness, despair, and a touch of foolish bravery. I expect you will taste finer than the finest wine.”

I had the stake in my hand now, and I began to mutter the incantation for a magic circle under my breath. I sent out a brief prayer to whatever Gods may be that Strahd was too distracted by his own self-infatuation to notice my lips moving as anything more than trembling. His words, vile beyond description, only made me hate him more.

Strahd’s dark eyes seemed to stare right through me.

“Rudolph van Richten the famous vampire slayer, do not make me laugh. There are no Gods here, except for one. You should know that.”

I broke off from my spell for one brief second of shock, just long enough to cause it to curdle and force me to start over again. Did he have the power to read my mind, or did he receive all prayers on this plane?

“Don’t make me laugh Rudolph.” My name came from his mocking lips again. “The other vampires you killed may have been Vampire Lords, but I am the ancient, I am the land.  _ I  _ am  _ Strahd von Zarovich _ !” The look in his eyes was one of triumphant pride.

He paused for a moment, his eyes staring directly into mine with heightened fervor before speaking again more quietly.

“But if I were you, Rudolph van Richten? If I were you, I would run.”

Before I could do naught else, he was upon me. Eyes blazing, mouth wide open, teeth bared.

I fired off my magic circle in an attempt to entrap him as I fell backwards, missing by a damned hair as he leapt directly onto me. I immediately jammed the stake upwards as he attempted to grapple me, but sensing my intention he shifted ever so slightly and my mark fell short of his cold heart.

One hand on my throat, Strahd pulled the stake loose and bared his breast to me. Where there should have been a hole, even briefly, there was no mark at all.

I tried to reach for my silvered cane, but in the struggle it had fallen ever so slightly out of my reach. Strahd looked down at me with malice. Malice and… disappointment?

“That was far too easy Rudolph, despite what I said before I really did expect more out of you.” Strahd gave me an aggrieved glance.

He began to slowly bend his mouth down towards my neck as if to enhance and lengthen my horror, and that was when I uttered my word of radiance.

“Erasmus.”

Holy light shone out from me in an instant, illuminating the room with its yellow glare.

Strahd leapt backwards from me, blocking his face with his arms and letting out an unholy scream. I could see his skin burning and flaking away, before knitting itself back together and then burning again in the face of my radiance. It was an unnatural sight; he should not have been able to instantly heal himself from my holy damage, even with a vampire’s regenerative powers.

Something in this castle was protecting Strahd, I was sure of it.

Too late now, I had to flee before his screams called the attention of his companions. He was too strong to kill until I found out what was protecting him.

Back on my feet, weapon in hand, I fled down the hallway and down the stairs. I thundered through the maze called Castle Ravenloft, not daring to check for pursuit behind me.

When I reached the doors to the castle, I flung myself through from darkness into light. Only as I crossed the now lowered drawbridge, which I knew to be controlled by Strahd’s mind, did I look back. He was standing under the great oaken doors as his laughter rang out, no longer chasing me.

I’d given him a good enough rush he was going to let me escape, I thought. Like a cat toying with a mouse with nowhere to go. I knew if I did not hurry he would quickly be after me again as soon as nightfall came.

I quickly hopped my mount, thankful that it had been left unmolested by the other horrors of the castle, and fled towards town. From there I would re-don my disguise in secret and make for my hideout. The cat was going to have to work a little harder to catch this mouse.

Strahd in his great arrogance had made a fatal mistake. He had let me escape a second time. So wrapped up in his own genius, he hadn’t stopped to think that maybe I had planned for this.

Well, alright, I hadn’t planned to meet him in the middle of the day, or even at all if I was lucky, but the information I’d gained was extremely valuable. And, I’d never been lucky.

However, I actually did plan to be trapped in Barovia as I was now. I was not in fact, shocked that anyone with the power to regularly exit and return to Barovia would lie about  _ how _ they achieve this feat. If they were telling the truth, why would they even bother returning to this hellhole unless they were in favor with its Dark Lord? I had already seen Strahd’s servants bargain with another Vampire Lord all to my own devastating loss.

If only my protégé Esmeralda were with me… but no, I could not think of that. I had to finish my work alone lest my curse lead others to danger.

I smiled to myself grimly as I tightened my hands, spotted with age, on the reigns. At some point since my first arrival here I had become an incredibly old man, and it had not been more apparent than since this morning’s return to Ravenloft. It did not bother me too much. I had nothing left in life except for the destruction of Strahd at these aged hands.

I had learned a boon of info about Strahd today and soon I would unravel significantly more. Quite uncharacteristically fortunate for me but unlucky for him, Strahd had been in what he would soon learn was the right place at the wrong time.

He didn’t even notice that I had taken his tome with me.

But he would.

**Author's Note:**

> I submitted this to the Curse of Strahd fanfiction competition and lost to several extremely talented writers. You can find the other submissions if you head to the Curse of Strahd subreddit.


End file.
